


Fetch, Fido

by twisch



Series: Wonky Phrases the Teenage Me Wrote [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Arguing, Banter, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, First Kiss, Humor, M/M, Wolf Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 11:33:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10696161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twisch/pseuds/twisch
Summary: "Go get him!""What am I, your dog?"





	Fetch, Fido

**Author's Note:**

> This little drabble was inspired by a story I found that I wrote when I was a teenager - back then I liked to name the chapters of the story. This is based off of one of those few phrases I found that amuses me, so I made a story.
> 
> The rest will make up the series.
> 
> I apologise for the title. It's 7 am and I haven't slept yet.
> 
> Very much unbeta'd.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

They barely escaped the rogue omega when he showed up close to where they'd been staked out looking for it. Derek had noticed in time to prevent any real damage, but the feral werewolf had still gotten close enough during their argument to get a swipe in, creating new lines on one of Stiles upper arms. He knew that they would be hell to explain to potential future partners outside the supernatural world. If there'd ever be one of those, of course. He sighed deeply as he ignored trickles of blood running down the arm in tiny rivulets, grabbing a handful of wolfsbane out of his pocket where one of the small bags from Deaton was hidden, which he threw in the rogue werewolf's face.

The werewolf was an alpha, and although Stiles had full confidence in Derek's abilities, this unknown 'wolf had already torn through two previous territories where in one he'd manage to kill an alpha despite being essentially packless, so Stiles wasn't taking any chances. With the powder in its face it turned tail and ran, Derek poised to follow if it wouldn't have been for Stiles hand around his bicep. 

Derek turned around, face mangled in a 'what the hell do you think you're doing?' look, before gazing at the ripped arm of Stiles shirt and the few drops of blood dripping off his elbow. Eyes widening he grabbed Stiles wrist, pulling the boy closer to examine the wounds, irises bleeding blue. Derek sniffed around the edges holding Stiles still, which Stiles allowed. Until he felt a tentative lick from the werewolf's tongue.

"Eh, Derek... What are you doing?" Instead of a reply, the licking got more insistent until it was a full on motion along the scratches. "Stop that!" Stiles tried to pull his arm out of Derek's grip only to be met by a deep growl. Stiles rolled his eyes, feeling Derek's tongue make contact with his skin again, but this time he was prepared. He brought his hand down in a move resembling what he used to watch in karate-movies when he was a kid, striking a nerve in Derek's neck that caused him to flinch away from Stiles.

Derek jerked backwards, his gaze traveling to Stiles face, the expression on his face both angry and a little bit hurt. Stiles sighed, taking Derek's free hand and putting it against his neck, knowing Derek would instinctively understand the submissiveness behind it, meeting the werewolf's gaze head on.

"I'm fine, Derek." He said sternly, heart not missing a beat. Derek's brow furrowed - ever since La Iglesia, his turning into a full wolf and returning to Beacon Hills, Derek's discerning between wolf and human was a little fuzzy at times. It was still Derek, just a little more animalistic and less prone to using words than he usually was, which was saying quite a lot.

"Listen to me, Derek. I'm fine!" Stiles insisted, keeping eye contact. "It's just a few scratches." The blue bled out of Derek's eyes and he blinked a few times as he seemed to come back to himself.

"Stiles..." He grumbled uncertainly, before clapping eyes on his hand around Stiles neck, his thumb at Stiles pulse point. He stared at it.

"Yeah, hey, hi. Welcome back, dude." Stiles grinned, making Derek's gaze snap up to his face again. It zeroed in on his mouth and suddenly, without warning, he was tugged forward, soft and slightly chapped lips connecting with his.

"Don't call me ' _dude_ '." Derek growled against Stiles lips, when he let up enough to separate their mouths again. But Stiles, until then, limp arms snaked around his neck, one hand grabbing at Dereks hair, shoved him back down and reconnected them again.

Derek moved his arms so they were firmly wrapped around Stiles torso, pulling him tight against his firm body. A groan escaped Stiles at the action, right into Derek's mouth, and Derek wasted no opportunity shoving his tongue between his lips to explore.

Stiles didn't realise they had moved until he was shoved up against a nearby tree, Derek's hands travelling up and down his sides in caressing movements. Derek shoved a muscled thigh in between his own, rubbing against the burgeoning bulge in his jeans. Stiles whimpered, which in turn caused Derek to let out a groan turned into a growl and-

A piercing howl split the bubble of heat and lips and searing attraction that they'd secluded themselves in. It was a call for backup and Stiles groaned as they separated, although Derek didn't let up from the position their bodies were in. Stiles leaned his forehead against Derek's chest.

"You should-"

"Yeah..."

"We'll just..."

"Later."

"Yeah."

Stiles lifted his head again. They stared at each other, a small grin splitting Stiles face, and the tiny hint of a smile curling at the corners of Derek's lips. They swayed, gravitated towards each other as another howl rang through the air and Stiles sighed.

"They need your help." Stiles said. Derek grunted, but didn't deny it, although he reluctantly pulled back entirely from Stiles, even if he still didn't move. "Come on. Go get him." Stiles encouraged, looking at Derek. Mischief sparked in Derek's multicoloured eyes.

"What am I, your dog?" Derek replied way too cheekily, to Stiles utter astonishment. Before he could come up with a proper response to the surprise that was the wit of Derek Hale, Derek had already winked at him and taken off in the direction of the howls.

"That is _weird_ , Derek!" Stiles called after the werewolf. "We will be having words about your kinks later!" He yelled, before stalking away in the direction of his jeep, so he could drive ahead, still grumbling under his breath.

"Stupid werewolves and their weirdass fetishes..." No matter that he usually made similar jokes himself. Or that just thinking about Derek made him unable to entirely keep the smile off his face. But at least he didn't have to explain the marks on his body to Derek. At that thought he sighed at himself.

He was so screwed.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are love!
> 
> Come hang with me on my sparkly new Twitter or Instagram (same handle on both) @TwischWrites  
> (because I don’t understand Tumblr.)


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